


Find Yourself A Man Who's Strong And Tall And Christian

by robin_writes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coma, Dean is eighteen, Dean's depressed, Depression, Fluff, Hospital, M/M, Mute Dean, Priest Castiel, Priest Kink, Sam is fourteen, hospital chapel, praying, sam is really sick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-05 00:00:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14604639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robin_writes/pseuds/robin_writes
Summary: Find Yourself A Man Who's Strong And Tall And ChristianOr the five times Dean and Cas prayed for Sam and the one time it worked....Sam is really sick and John's gone off to find some supernatural cure, but Sam's not getting any better so Dean turns to religion. Religion in the form of an incredibly fuckable Cas.





	1. March 20th 1997

**Author's Note:**

> Title based on Hallucinogenics by Matt Maeson. Enjoy.

Sammy was sick. The doctor John spoke to said to prepare for the worst. So John took off. Went out searching for a supernatural cure. Meanwhile Dean was left watching Sam’s already small body get smaller. He was only fourteen. But the disease didn’t care. Most of the time Sam wasn’t even conscious.

After a few weeks of being stuck in the hospital bed, Sam’s cheeks started to visibly hollow. It was eating him from the inside. And all Dean could do was watch. He hated it and he hated how useless he felt. And the doctors couldn’t treat Sam because the treatment would kill him faster than the disease. So Dean had to watch his little brother wither away in a room that smelled of bleach and was painfully bright.

He had been sleeping at the hospital, not wanting to leave Sam alone. Dean was pretty sure that when John took off he gave the keys for the motel room back, so Dean couldn’t leave the hospital even if he wanted to.

A sound woke him up. He was drooling on his arm, sitting in the chair at the end of Sam’s bed, face on his mattress. There were so many needles in Sam. Saline, blood, morphine… the works. All Dean wanted, more than anything else in the world, was to replace Sam. So Sam wasn’t sick. He couldn’t think of any supernatural way, other than the obvious. That’s what he’d do then.

Dean got up, stroked Sam’s hair out of his eyes. And then headed for the hospital chapel.

It was small. A few rows of seats facing a large stained glass window, light pouring through. There were a few people sitting down already, so Dean took a seat at the back, in the corner. Hidden away. And then he prayed.

_Dear God. Is that how I’m supposed to start something like this? I’m really not sure. So, listen, I’m sorry I haven’t been a regular customer. I always figured that a God that let demons, vampires, ghosts and the like run around killing people wasn’t a God worth knowing. I’m sorry for that. And I’m sorry that the first time I’ve prayed I’m asking for something. But Sammy’s dying. He’s really sick. You probably know that already. But I will do anything if you help. Just let him get better and I’ll do whatever you want. Okay. That’s it. Thanks for hearing me out._

Dean opened his eyes and looked up. The light from the stain glass window was being blocked. A man was standing in front of it wearing a large black robe. He looked really young. Like twenties young. And he was staring directly at Dean.

Dean ducked his head, feeling awkward. But the priest walked over to where Dean was sitting, and sat next to him. “It’s Dean, right?” He asked. Dean’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped. Was his prayer actually answered? “You’ve been around for a few weeks. I’m friends with a few of the nurses.”

“Oh. Yeah, that makes sense.” So the guy wasn’t God-sent, not specifically for Dean anyway.

“My name’s Castiel.”

“So, you’re like the youngest priest I’ve ever met. What’s up with that?” Dean wanted to put his foot in his mouth as soon as he’d said the words. But Castiel just laughed.

“I completed my seminary training a few months ago. I started volunteering here last month. Would you like me to pray with you?” He asked.

“Honestly, this is the first time I’ve ever prayed. But I figure Sam needs all the faith he can get. So yeah.”

“I heard Sam was your brother.”

“Yeah. The doc says there’s nothing they can do. My dad took off when Sam first got sick to uh… find a specialist. But Sam looks like he’s got one foot in the grave.” When Dean stopped talking, Castiel bowed his head and Dean followed suit.

“O Father of mercies and God of all comfort, our only help in time of need. We humbly beseech thee to behold, visit, and relieve thy sick servant Sam for whom our prayers are desired. Look upon him with the eyes of thy mercy; comfort him with a sense of thy goodness; preserve him from the temptations of the enemy; and give him patience under his affliction. In thy good time, restore him to health, and enable him to lead the residue of his life in thy fear, and to thy glory; and grant that finally he may dwell with thee in life everlasting; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.” Castiel said quietly.

“Thank you.” Dean said, his voice thick.

“Of course.”

“I’ve gotta get back to Sam. But maybe I’ll see you around?”

“I’ll be here.” Castiel said and Dean stood, leaving the chapel. Only looking over his shoulder once he was in the corridor. Castiel was staring after him. He swallowed and then hurried back to Sam.


	2. March 22nd 1997

Dean was on a food run. His stomach was rumbling and he was headed to the cafeteria. But he ended up outside the chapel again. He wondered if Castiel would be there again. And he took a step inside.

Castiel was hunched over in the front pew, because that’s what the benches were called Dean found out. “Hey Cas.” Dean said. “I was just about to grab lunch, you wanna come with?” When he got over to Castiel though, he stopped. He was asleep. Dean smiled. He probably had a late night.

So he ran to grab a couple of sandwiches and then walked back to the chapel. He pulled Cas into the office off the chapel and pushed him gently onto the couch. Dean ate his sandwich and then realised he needed a nap too. He closed his eyes in the armchair next to the couch and allowed himself to drift off.

Cas woke him up an hour later by shaking his shoulders. “Wake up Dean.” He said softly.

“I’m awake.” Dean said as he woke. Cas laughed softly and Dean decided that it was the best sound he had ever heard. He smiled brightly. “That sandwich is for you. I thought you’d be hungry when you woke up.”

“Thanks.” He said but didn’t move to grab it. Cas stayed crouched in front of Dean, at eye level. Dean started to feel self conscious with Cas staring at him like that. But then Cas’ stomach growled loudly and they both laughed. “I’m starving.” He said when he took a large bite of the sandwich Dean brought him.

“I was uh… I was wondering if you would… If you would pray with me. For Sam.” Dean said, barely getting the words out, choking on his tongue. “He doesn’t look any worse and I thought maybe it was working.”

“Of course I’ll pray with you Dean.” They both bowed their heads and then Cas began reciting a similar prayer as the last time. Dean let himself glance up. Watching the light stroking Cas’ face, casting shadows from his eyelashes and cheekbones. His lips moved with purpose, pink and full. Dean suddenly couldn’t think of anything but how much he wanted to bite Cas’ lips, wondering how sinful he would look with bruised lips. And then Dean was thinking about running his hands through Cas’ hair making him look disheveled in a completely fuckable way.

Right as he had that thought, Cas stopped talking and looked up. “I should go.” Dean left without another word, feeling guiltier than he had when he fucked Sam’s prom date… on prom night. He couldn’t think about a priest that way. Even if that priest was Cas.


	3. April 9th 1997

John was back. And he was empty handed. No freaky amulets or herbs or spells or witches with him. He looked devastated. Dean knew exactly what had happened before John had gotten through the doorway.

 

Dean dropped Sam’s hand, stood up like a shot and left the room. John didn’t try to stop him. And when Dean snapped back to reality, he was hovering outside the chapel. Goddamn fucking chapel. He didn’t need this right now. Sam needed him. Dean did not need to find religion. And he definitely did not need to find a boyfriend. He growled and then left.

 

He ran as far away from the chapel as he could get, a dampness spreading across his face. Sam would be okay. Sam had to be okay. Dean didn’t know what kind of a life he would lead without his kid brother, but he wasn’t much enjoying the sneak peak.

 

There was a bench in front of a small pond that Dean dropped onto. He realised with a start he was outside. When did that happen? And there was someone sat next to him. Dean turned his head. “Fucking Cas.” He said grumpily. Cas just smirked at him. Dean wanted to kiss the smirk off of his face.

“Good morning Dean.”

“Not really.”

“Why’s that?” Cas had a stupid concerned look on his face.

“I came out here to get away from you.” A flash of hurt moved across Cas’ face before he hid it quickly. But Dean saw it. And he felt his face heat with shame. “My dad’s back. Sam’s gonna die. And the first thing I did was walk to the chapel.” Dean was frustrated with himself.

“Maybe you’re more open to religion than you first believed?”

“No. I mean… I don’t know. But I was there to find you I think. But then I came to my senses and came out here. To find you.”

“Fucking Cas.” Cas repeated Dean’s earlier words, nodding slowly.

“I just… I need Sammy to be okay.” Dean’s voice cracked with emotion and the tears fell freely from his eyes. He let Cas lean over and wipe them with his thumb.

“Pray with me Dean.” He clutched Dean’s hand and then lowered his head.

 

_Dear God. It’s me, Dean Winchester. I guess I haven’t kept my word. I suppose you could’ve made a point that I was meant to become a devout bible thumper if you healed Sam. Maybe I was supposed to uphold my end before any miracles were worked. But dad’s back and he didn’t find anything. So you gotta help me. There’s nothing no one can do but you. Doc’s still stumped, and there’re no supernatural cures, I’m only good for fixing up cars and hunting, so it’s just down to you now. You gotta help me. Please._

 

Dean opened his eyes again and realised he was still crying. Cas was hovering over him, the cogs turning in his head. “Dean.” He said. It sounded like it hurt. “I would very much like to kiss you, but if it’s not welcome just tell me to piss off.” Dean said nothing, but his jaw dropped. Aren’t priests meant to be super against gay shit?

 

Apparently not. Because Cas pressed his lips firmly against Dean’s, moving his hand to cup the back of Dean’s neck. Something clicked and Dean licked the seam of Cas’ lips, pushing his tongue into the man’s mouth. And then he moved his tongue around with expert skill developed from making out with girls for most of his adolescence.

 

And apparently Dean had a priest kink because when the two tore apart, it only took one look at Cas’ uniform for Dean’s pants to get tight.

 

Dean moved his hand to Cas’ thigh and manoeuvred so he had a better vantage point. And then he descended. Cas groaned against him which made Dean sink against him further. Cas pulled his head back and tucked it into Dean neck. He kissed at Dean’s pulse point smirking when Dean let out a loud moan. Blush rose to Dean’s cheeks, and his hips lifted off the bench seeking out friction. He pressed his crotch up against Cas. But Cas stilled, lifting his head to look at Dean. “This isn’t a good idea.” Cas said. “You’re upset. I’ll see you around.” Cas stood up, leaving Dean high and dry.

 

Dean stared after him. He swore under his breath and then slouched back against the bench.


	4. March 5th 1998

John had rented an apartment after he got back from the fruitless search for a cure for Sammy, but Dean rarely stayed there. He either stayed with Cas or just didn’t go home from the hospital. It was a year now. Today would make it a year since Sam got sick. He looked barely human. The doctors had put him in a medically-induced coma eight months ago to help his body heal. But it only slowed the progression of the mystery disease. They still had no clue what it was.

 

Dean woke up that morning in Cas’ bed alone. But he could hear the shower on so he didn’t panic. He sighed, turning over to face away from the sunlight pouring through the window. And he allowed the metaphorical darkness to suck him in.

 

He was staring at a patch on the wall where his shadow made the paint take on a darker colour. Everything was darker when he was around. Dean didn’t know why Cas put up with him. He barely put up with himself.

 

After they put Sam in the coma, Dean stopped talking so much. He would grunt out an agreement or snort occasionally, but he rarely spoke in fully formed sentences. It was too hard without Sammy. John was the same. They never spoke to each other, both feeling worthless for not being able to help. John had dried up all of his leads, asked around all of his hunting pals and their hunting pals, and talked to every mythology and folklore expert he could find. There was the occasional cure-all talisman he found, but they all turned out to be a bust.

 

Cas got out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist and glancing at Dean. As he got dressed, Cas brushed his hand soothingly down Dean’s cheek. Dean lent into the touch but otherwise didn’t register it. Cas sighed and then dropped Dean’s clothes onto the bed. The younger man snapped out of whatever hole he had fallen down and began to get dressed.

 

Cas made them breakfast, just some toast and coffee. He knew Dean wouldn’t want to hang around for too long. And then Dean slid into the chair opposite Cas. They both ate in silence and then headed for the hospital.

 

The priest wasn’t working today, so he was wearing a dark grey henley and a pair of well-fitting jeans. Dean walked a few steps ahead of him, anxious to get back to Sam.

 

In the chair next to Sam was a sleeping John. Dean shook his dad awake and then sat on the small sofa next to Cas. Cas folded the blanket that was on the sofa, it was where the Winchester men slept if they remembered to get up from the armchair next to Sam.

 

The three sat in comfortable silence for a few hours, Cas rubbing small circles into Dean’s palm, Dean leaning on Cas. John stood up suddenly. “Lunch.” He said by way of explanation and then left the room.

 

Cas started to pray aloud. “Father, we ask once again that you heal your servant Sam Winchester of his ailment so that he may be able to wake and fulfil your wishes.” Dean took Cas’ hand, squeezing it gently and then closed his eyes, not bothering to check if it worked. He had given up on that hope after the fourth month of praying with no change to Sam’s health. Still, he let Cas pray but didn’t get his hopes up that it would change anything.

 

Dean was dozing, snoring lightly when John came back. He held out a couple of wraps to Cas. “Thanks.” Cas said, shaking Dean and passing him one of the wraps when his eyes opened. They both ate quickly. And then the three went back to watching Sam’s breathing.

 

Cas dragged Dean home at ten. They slept and then started the day again. The exact same way. Cas with a shower and Dean staring at the darkness projected on the wall from inside of him. Not saying a word.


	5. January 1st 1999

Dean forced his lips against Cas’ as the clock hit midnight. He slid his tongue in and around Cas’ mouth, and griped him tight when Cas’ knees threatened to give out. They pulled away, breathless. “Happy new year.” Dean said. His voice was croaky and unused, but it was the best thing Cas had ever heard. His eyebrows shot up through the roof. Dean hasn’t said anything in nine months. He laughed at Cas’ facial expression. “I’ve been seeing a therapist. Wanted it to be a surprise.”

“I don’t… I don’t know what to say.”

“Isn’t that ironic.” Dean smirked, his voice sounding more and more like it did before. “I didn’t want me not talking to be an excuse for yo…you to leave. I c…couldn’t stand that.” Emotion breaking his words.

“I would never have left you because you weren’t talking Dean.”

“Yeah… well…”

“No. I never. Never would’ve done that.” He had to make Dean understand.

“Okay.”

“But I’m glad you feel comfortable enough to be talking again.”

 

Later on, when they went to bed Cas was smiling. “What’re you smiling at?” Dean asked which made Cas smile more.

“I want to give you one of your birthday presents now. I know your birthday isn’t for a while, but I want to.”

“Can’t argue with that.” Cas ran from the room, practically giggling and Dean wondered how bad he was gonna get it, in the best way possible of course. Cas came back hiding something behind his back.

“Dean Winchester.” Cas said, Dean gulped. “You’ve given me a great gift… I’m crap at this. I’m fucking it all up.”

“Yes.” Dean said.

“What? No, you can’t do that. I have to ask you before you answer.”

“Yes.” Dean reached around Cas’ body to where he was holding a small ring box. Dean opened it and slid it on his finger and then looked up at Cas. “Yes.” He said firmly.

“You’ll marry me?”

“Yes.” Dean said, a wide smile on his face mirrored by Cas’ equally wide smile. Cas took Dean’s face in his hands, pulling Dean towards him. Dean moaned against Cas’ mouth, slipping his tongue into the wet heat. But he pulled away. “Can you even marry a guy? You know, cause of the whole priest thing.”

“Not yet. But I’m working on it. As long as you don’t mind waiting, Dean Winchester, I would be honoured to be your husband.”

“I… I don’t think I could get married without Sammy there, y’know. He’s too important to me.”

“We’ll wait then.” Cas smiled. Silence fell between the newly engaged couple. “You think Sam would like me?”

“Yes.” Dean said with conviction.

“You didn’t even think about it.” Cas protested.

“I don’t have to. You’re both giant nerds and my two favourite people in the world. There is nothing he wouldn’t like about you Castiel.” Dean kissed away Cas’ frown. “Could we pray again, for Sam?”

“Of course Dean.” Cas pulled away and closed his eyes, Dean followed suit. “Think, O God, of our brother who is ill, whom we now commend to Your compassionate regard. Comfort him upon his sickbed, and ease his suffering. We beg for deliverance, and submit that no healing is too hard for the Lord, if it be His will. We therefore pray that You bless our brother with Your loving care, renew his strength, and heal what ails him in Your loving name. Thank You, Lord.” Dean nodded once in affirmation.

 

They fell into bed shortly after, Dean examining the silver band on his finger. He spun it a few times, looking at the dark engraved symbols. “What do they mean?” He turned to Cas.

“It’s my name in Enochian.”

“Enochian?”

“The angel’s language Dean.”

“Oh. It’s beautiful.” He said honestly. “I feel bad you don’t have a ring.”

“I’ll have one soon enough.”

“Maybe you could wear this one.” Dean said, sliding the ring he had worn from adolescence off of his right hand. “It’s scraped and worn but I haven’t taken it off since I was nineteen so…”

“It’s perfect. Thank you Dean.” Cas took the ring and slid it onto his left ring finger. Cas pressed a kiss to Dean’s lips and Dean hummed happily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more chapter left amigos :0


	6. January 2nd 1999

When Dean and Cas got to the hospital the next morning, John wasn’t there. It was surprising but not unheard of for John to disappear from Sam’s bedside. Dean threaded his fingers through Cas’ and tugged him to stand next to Sam’s head. “Heya Sammy.” Dean said, forgoing the chair behind him to stand, hand still in Cas’. “I’ve got somethin’ real important to tell you.” Dean paused, eyes glancing over his brother’s motionless form. “Cas and me, we’re engaged. He proposed… technically it was yesterday morning. New years Sammy.” Dean elaborated. “So now you’ve gotta get better, because I absolutely will not get married unless you’re there at my side. You don’t have a choice anymore. I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours, but you’re too smart for your own good so fight harder. Because I miss you little brother,” He paused, half expecting Sam to chastise him, saying ‘It’s younger brother’. But Sam didn’t wake. “okay, well when you’re ready then.” Dean dropped Cas’ hand and fell into the chair behind him, allowing the weird plastic material to catch him. He was exhausted despite it being only ten in the morning.

“Perhaps you would like a coffee Dean?” Cas asked, still hovering by Sam’s bed.

“Sure.” Dean nodded, and Cas left the room.

 

Dean turned to look at Sam again, and he began to pray. _Dear God, I’m starting to think that you’ll never wake Sam up. Cas, uh… Castiel told me about this philosophical argument the other day. He told me that some people think you don’t exist because there’s so much evil in the world. I mean, I thought that too. It’s hard to see past the bad if there’s meant to be some all-powerful, all-loving being that should be able to get rid of the evil but chooses not to. But then Cas explained that ‘a world full of free humans with the possibility of evil’ is better than there being ‘a world free of evil where we all have the free will of a rock’. So you chose to make a world with free will, and I can respect that. I don’t think I would like accepting orders blindly without having choices. But the consequence of this is evil. The consequence is Sam lying half dead in this hospital with a slim to no chance of ever waking up and getting better. I think… I think if the alternative is no free will, I’d rather have this world. As shit as it is. I think I believe. After all this time of praying and dating a priest, I think I finally believe. It’s taken years to get me to this point, and even if Sam never wakes up and my life turns to crap, I think I’ll still believe because I get it now. Faith and hope and love. Religions spew that constantly, but I get it now. It’s comforting to believe in something that has greater power, something that you can trust, something that loves you for you. So sign me up, consider me converted. Dean out._

 

A quiet calm fell over Dean and he realised he was smiling. Cas came back in and raised his eyebrows but didn’t ask. Dean took the coffee he was offered and took a large gulp. The pressure of his existence as a hunter was lifting slowly, he no longer felt responsible to save everyone. God can save everyone. Dean just has to save as many as he can.

 

John came back to the room looking freshly shaven and showered, wearing clean and clothes that smelt like laundry detergent and not like sweat and that distinctly hospital smell. Dean stood up from the chair John usually sat in. He skimmed his hand over Sam’s face, smiling as his ring brushed against Sam’s hair. And then Dean took a seat next to Cas on the loveseat, sipping the last of his coffee.

 

A groan sounded and Dean looked up at his dad; it wasn’t coming from Cas. But John was staring at Sam with wide eyes. The bed moved a little and John shot up like a rocket. He pressed the nurse call button on Sam’s bed. Dean stood slower than his father, not believing what was happening. The three men were joined by a nurse who walked through the door.

 

Sam’s eyelids fluttered open and he stretched his limbs, groaning when they cracked and popped. “Wh… what happened?” He asked, voice scratchier than Dean’s was. The nurse began to check all of the equipment surrounding him, while Cas turned and poured a cup of water for Sam. “Thank you… father?” Sam said as Cas held the water up for him to drink with a straw. Cas remembered he was wearing his sermon uniform for later. Cas looked at Dean, deferring the explanation to him.

“Sam… this is Cas, he’s my fiancé.” Dean said.

“Yeah? Well nice to meet you Cas, Dean’s fiancé.” Sam’s eyes were drawn from Cas to his older brother. “You look really old. How long was I out grandpa?” Sam smiled which made both Dean and Cas smile too.

“They put you in a coma August 1997, it’s January second 1999.”

“Woah.” Sam said.

“Yeah.” Dean agreed, letting out a breath.

“So what did I have? How did they fix me?”

“We don’t know. The doctors still have no clue. And they haven’t done anything different with the meds in like five months.” Dean explained.

“But then… how did I wake up?” Sam’s face screwed up.

“I think that might have been me.” Dean said, and everyone’s faces whipped towards him. John looked devastated, probably thought Dean made a deal with a crossroads demon or something. Cas was intrigued but Sam was just confused still. “I uh… Cas and me… we’ve been praying for you. But earlier, I prayed on my own. And I… I’m a believer now so…” He said awkwardly, looking down at his feet. “I might have implied, or well straight out said that I wouldn’t stop believing even if you never woke up. I think God might’ve been waiting for me to come to that conclusion for some time now. I mean, why else would he send me my own personal priest?” Dean turned to look at Cas who had the biggest smile on his face Dean had ever seen. And sure, maybe Dean’s voice was still a little husky because of the lack of use and the emotion of the day. But it sounded honest and true.

“You’re trying to tell me that you’ve been actually, properly praying for a couple of years now and you only started truly believing until today.” Sam analysed what Dean had been saying.

“When you put it that way…” Dean scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “I’m just glad to have you back Sammy.” Dean dropped his hand and smiled widely. Sam mirrored him, just as happy to be back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's it. I hope you all enjoyed it.   
> The philosophical argument Dean refers to in this chapter is the 'problem of evil' which is probably the most used argument against the concept of God. And what Cas comes back with is called the 'Free Will Defence'. They are both legitimate philosophical arguments that I studied in first-year Philosophy at college, but of course I toned down the harsh language. Philosophers use way too much Latin in my opinion.


End file.
